


Ask Me No Questions, I’ll Tell You No Lies

by DelilahMcMuffin



Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [37]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Chapter 2 is filth and feelings, Communication, Idiots in Love, Jukebox Prompt, Lack of Communication, M/M, Marcy Brewer loves her boys, Mother-Son Relationship, Patrick is bad at communication, Rimming, Rutting, Second-Hand Embarrassment, marriage is hard, mother-son-in-law relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: Marcy overhears Patrick and David having a disagreement. She doesn’t want to get involved, but  sometimes her son’s communication issues are too much for her to overlook.Rating changed to E for Chapter 2
Relationships: Marcy Brewer & David Rose, Marcy Brewer & Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Randoms - A Series of Random Prompts [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556491
Comments: 76
Kudos: 423





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/gifts).



> From schittyfic’s prompt: some years into their marriage, David asks Marcy and/or Clint for marriage advice

Marcy looks up from her crossword at the sound of the front door opening. David and Patrick aren’t supposed to be back from visiting the local Christmas Craft market until later. The door closes a little louder than is strictly necessary and Marcy is about to chastise the boys when she hears their voices coming from the front hall.

“Just leave it, David. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah. I got that. You made that abundantly clear.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have to make things abundantly clear if you’d just listen the first time I say something.”

It’s obvious they’re trying to keep their voices down, but their words grow louder as the conversation gets more heated.

“Excuse me? Maybe you missed the memo, but today was supposed to be about us—you and me—enjoying the day together. As  _ husbands. _ Not thinking about work. Not as business partners. So I’m sorry if I didn’t want to engage in shop talk  _ again _ when we were supposed to be focusing on us.”

“Well, our business is a big part of  _ us _ , David. And in order for  _ us _ to work, I need you to be a little more flexible. The store is important to me.”

There’s a silence that drags on for a hair too long. Then Marcy hears David’s voice and her heart breaks.

“And I’m not?”

She hears her son exhale loudly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well that’s what it sounded like,” David says, and it sounds like all the fight has gone out of him. “I care about the business too, Patrick. But I care about  _ us _ more. And this weekend was supposed to be about us spending time together and with your parents and leaving work behind. Because for the last month that’s all you’ve talked about, all the time. So either something is really wrong with the store and you’re not telling me about it, or…”

“Or?” Patrick asks, and Marcy can hear the trepidation in her son’s voice. “Or what, David?”

David sighs. “You know what? I just...I can’t right now. I just can’t. I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some tea?”

“No,” Patrick says, his voice obviously a little sharper than he’d meant for it to be, as his next words are softer. “No, thank you. I’m fine. I’m just going to go upstairs and email that vendor.”

Marcy listens as her son’s footsteps tread heavily up the stairs. There’s silence from the living room, then she hears the soft rustling of fabric and she knows David is taking off his coat and hanging it neatly on the coat tree by the front door. When he pads into the kitchen in his sock feet, she smiles up at him. The look on his face is one she’s never seen before. He looks sad. Tired. Maybe a little angry. But he quickly schools his features into something more closely resembling the shy smile she’s used to seeing.

“Hi sweetheart,” she says, setting aside her crossword and gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “I just made some coffee. Can I get you a cup?”

He sinks into the offered chair and nods, a grateful little twitch tugging at the corners of his mouth. She gets up and pours him a mug, then sets it in front of him along with the sugar and the little jug of cream. She watches him doctor his beverage to his liking, taking note of the four teaspoons of sugar he heaps into his drink. She’ll remember for next time.

She sits back down in her chair and sets a small bottle of Bailey’s down on the table and winks at him. “Always warms me up after a cold day.”

His lips twitch again and he pours a splash into his mug. “Thanks.”

Marcy adds a glug to her own coffee. “So. You two are home early. Everything okay?”

“Mmm,” David hums noncommittally. He sips his coffee and closes his eyes. The space between his thick, expressive eyebrows is creased and she can see the muscle in his jaw clenching. “The fair was lovely.”

Not wanting to press him, Marcy reaches out and pats his hand. She can see on his face that there’s something he wants to say, but she can appreciate that he’s in an awkward position. She is his husband’s mother, after all. 

“You know, I remember when Patrick was little,” she says, her hand still on David’s as she speaks, “he would get so involved in little projects he set for himself, that sometimes he’d forget that there were other things—other people—that needed his attention.”

She glances at David’s face, sees the flicker of realization and recognition cross his features. “Once, when he was eight, he decided to try his hand at magic. He spent hours and hours every day for a month reading books on magic, practicing in his room. When he was supposed to be doing his homework, I’d go in to check on him and find him pouring over those magic books.”

The corner of David’s mouth quirks upward. “That’s very cute. Was he any good?”

“Lord, no,” Marcy laughs. “But what eight years old is? If he’d stuck with it, I’m sure he could have been. But he never managed much more than pulling a quarter out of his dad’s ear. He got very upset when we wouldn’t get him a rabbit, but we lived in an apartment then and weren’t allowed any pets.”

“Did he pout?” David inquires, smiling wider now.

Marcy pats David’s hand again. “What do you think?” The grin on David’s face says that he knows the answer from personal experience. “The point is, that when something was important to him, he always had a habit of fixating.”

David’s face falls and his brows crease again. “For the last couple of months, all he thinks about is the store. Which...I mean, I’m glad he’s paying attention, don’t get me wrong. It gives me the freedom and confidence to focus on the creative side of things.” He sighs and takes his hand out from under Marcy’s and wraps it around his mug. “But he’s never been laser focused like this before. It’s like he’s got blinders on and everything else just doesn’t matter as much anymore. And I’m...” David trails off with a shake of his head, “God. It’s so stupid. How self-involved do I sound right now?” He chuckles weakly and delicately swipes a knuckle under his eye. 

“Sweetheart, it’s not stupid. And you don’t sound self-involved,” Marcy assures him. “You sound like a man who loves his husband and maybe wouldn’t mind a little more attention.”

He looks up at her and his mouth twists off to the side in a futile attempt to hide his emotions. “Patrick loves you, David. He adores you. Maybe he just needs a little reminder that he needs to spend some time with his husband, not just his business partner.”

“Yeah,” David sighs. He looks back down into his coffee cup. “Maybe.”

He finishes his coffee and rinses out his mug, putting it in the dishwasher. “I think I’m going to go for a walk,” he says, turning to face her. “Unless...can I help with dinner?”

Marcy smiles at him from her place at the table. “No, sweetheart. You go ahead.”

He bends to press a kiss to her cheek before disappearing back into the living room. She listens as he dons his outerwear and shoes and the door closes behind him with a quiet click.

Marcy finishes her crossword and her coffee and then pulls out the pot roast for dinner. She peels potatoes and carrots and sets the roasting pan in the oven. As she’s setting the timer on her phone, she hears the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

“Hi, Mom,” Patrick says coming into the kitchen and kissing her cheek. He looks around, his brows furrowed. “Where’s David?”

“He went for a walk.” 

Her son raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Like, outside?”

“I think he just wanted a little quiet time,” Marcy says, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “He seemed a little...upset.”

Patrick scrubs his hands over his face and leans back against the counter, groaning quietly. “Upset?” he asks, chin ducked down to his chest, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

Marcy nods but doesn’t say anything. It’s not her place to interfere in her son’s marriage. 

“Like, upset...with me?” His voice is so quiet, so uncertain, that it makes Marcy’s heart ache. She knows her two boys love one another, and she wants to help make things right between them. 

“Does he have a reason to be upset with you?” she asks carefully. Patrick continues to keep his gaze averted and his hands burrow even deeper into his pockets. “You don’t have to tell me, Patrick. But if there’s something wrong with the store, then—“

“There’s nothing wrong with the store!” Patrick says loudly, and Marcy can’t help but think that perhaps he doth protest too much. She raises an eyebrow at her son, who sheepishly looks away. “There isn’t anything wrong with the store. The opposite, in fact. I’m...I’m trying to figure out if we can expand the business, but I want to have a solid plan in place before I present it to David. I don’t want him to worry if it doesn’t work out.”

Marcy isn’t sure if she wants to hug Patrick or shake him. “Have you considered that by trying to protect David from worrying about the store, you’ve given him something else to worry about?” Patrick looks at her, brow furrowed. 

“What?”

_Lord, these Brewer men,_ Marcy thinks. “Patrick, why did you and David come here this weekend?”

“To see you and Dad,” Patrick says. He squirms under Marcy’s watchful gaze. “And to check out the Christmas fair for new vendors.”

“And does David know you had an ulterior motive for taking him to the Christmas fair?”

Patrick’s silence is all the answer Marcy needs. “I know it’s not my place, Patrick. But think about it from his point of view. How would you feel if you were in his shoes?”

Before Patrick can reply, the front door opens and closes and David’s voice calls out from the front room.

“Hi, Marcy. I’m back,” he says and Marcy can hear the sounds of him divesting his outerwear. 

“In here, sweetheart,” Marcy calls out. David appears in the doorway, his cheeks pink from the cold. The smile on his face slips when he sees Patrick leaning against the counter. 

“Hey,” Patrick says, his voice soft. He smiles hesitantly at his husband. 

“Hi,” David replies quietly. He points over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna...I need to change into something a little warmer.”

As David turns to leave, Patrick reaches out and puts a staying hand on his arm. “Baby? I’m so sorry.”

David turns back to look at him, his dark eyes glistening. “Sorry for what?” And Marcy can’t help the swell of pride in her chest. Good for David, making Patrick say the words. 

“I’m sorry for not being honest about this trip. About the fair.”

David nods thoughtfully, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. “Is...is the store okay?”

“Oh, babe. Yes! Of course it is!” Patrick soothes, pulling David into his arms. David goes willingly, although his face still belies his uncertainty.

“And y-you’d tell me? If it wasn’t?”

Patrick pulls back and takes David’s face gently in his hands. “I would. I absolutely would, David. I promise.” A relieved look crosses David’s face. Patrick leans in and kisses him softly on the cheek. “I actually want to talk to you about ways I think we could expand the business.”

David nods and lets himself be pulled into Patrick’s arms again, burying his face in Patrick’s neck. 

“I thought you were losing interest in me,” David whispers, and Marcy is pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Oh my God,” Patrick breathes, “Baby, that’s not possible. How could I ever lose interest in you?”

Then Patrick murmurs a few things in David’s ear that Marcy was  _ definitely _ not supposed to hear. 

“Mom? How long until dinner?” Patrick asks, his eyes focused on his husband. 

“Uh, about 40 minutes,” Marcy replies, glancing at the timer on her phone. 

“Yup. Good. Okay,” Patrick says, nudging David toward the stairs. “I can work with that.”

Then he’s dragging David up the stairs and Marcy hears his bedroom door close behind them. Deciding that she’s heard enough for one day, Marcy reaches for her noise cancelling headphones and searches for a podcast that will keep her distracted for the next 40 minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested, a continuation of the first chapter. David and Patrick _reconnect_.

David giggles as Patrick kicks his bedroom door closed behind them. He bites at his lower lip in that way he does that makes Patrick’s pulse quicken, and shimmies his shoulders. Patrick loves him so much. He takes a step toward David, who takes a countering step backward, again and again until David’s legs hit the mattress and his eyes light up and he shimmies again.

“Uh oh,” he says, his voice low and husky, and Patrick’s groin throbs in response. David sits on the edge of the bed, his knees spread in invitation. Patrick steps between them and takes David’s face in his hands. His eyes are dark with desire and his hands come around to the backs of Patrick’s thighs, pulling him closer and smiling up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi baby,” Patrick says. He strokes his thumbs along the ridge of David’s cheekbones. God, his husband is so beautiful. He bends to brush his lips over David’s and his heart swells when David sighs against his mouth. 

It’s so easy to make David happy. People think it’s hard, because David has exacting aesthetic standards for himself and the world around him. But when it comes to affection, to physical expressions of Patrick’s love for him, David has always been open and accepting of whatever Patrick was ready to give him. Back in the early days of their relationship, when Patrick had been so unsure, so nervous and overwhelmed about being intimate with David, he’d made it so easy, happy to follow along at Patrick’s pace.

And even now, years into their marriage, David is as happy to accept the soft brush of lips against his as he is to accept Patrick’s tongue in his ass or Patrick’s mouth around his cock.

Pulling back, Patrick looks at his husband, at his dark eyes filled with hope and longing. His heart sinks. He’d had no idea he’d been neglecting David, so much so that he actually thought Patrick was losing interest in him. He thinks back over the last few months, trying to piece together how long it’s actually been since the last time they were really intimate. It can’t have been that long. But the more he tries, the more clear it becomes to him that it has been a while. Too long. He wants to ask David why he’d never said anything, but his mind helpfully supplies memory after memory of David coming into their home office where Patrick was pouring over spreadsheets and budget reports, his long fingers sifting through Patrick’s hair as he asks him to come to bed. The lingering kisses to Patrick’s neck, the hopeful look in his eyes. And each and every time, the look of disappointment and resignation as Patrick had told him “I’ll be there soon,” or “I just need to finish this”, only to come to bed hours later to find David already asleep.

_Fuck._

He runs a finger along David’s jawline and smiles when David leans into his touch. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” Patrick whispers. “And I love you so much. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you're not the most important part of my life, or that I wasn’t...that I didn’t want…”

“It’s okay,” David says quietly. But it’s not okay. It’s so far from okay, that David was left feeling unwanted.

Patrick shakes his head. “I promised you when we stayed in Schitt’s Creek that I’d make you happy there. And that...I haven’t done that. I lost sight of that, baby. I’m so sorry.”

It’s David’s turn to shake his head. “I’m still happy, Patrick. I promise I am. You make me happy. It’s just been a little...lonely. These past few months.”

“Well, I’m still sorry, David,” Patrick says. “And I promise that you’re not going to be lonely anymore.”

“Okay,” David says, and Patrick’s heart fills with love for this incredible man. 

“Okay,” Patrick echoes. He bends to plant a kiss to David’s upturned face, sighing at the feeling of David’s lips against his, soft and plump and yielding. David opens his mouth, inviting Patrick in, and he licks at the sensitive skin of the inside of David’s lower lip, then delves deeper, his tongue seeking David’s. He moans into David’s mouth as they tangle for dominance.

David’s hands slide up the backs of Patrick’s legs, fingers kneading at his ass before sliding up to his lower back and rucking up the back of his sweater. He trails his fingers up Patrick’s spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake and Patrick needs to be closer, feel more of his husband. He straddles David’s lap and pushes him onto his back, settling on top of him, letting David feel his weight. He bites at David’s lower lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking, earning a whimper of desire.

“What do you want, David?” Patrick asks, lips skimming along David’s jaw, down his neck. He uses his nose to nudge aside the collar of David’s sweater, exposing the juncture of neck and shoulder and bites gently at the tender skin. David’s hips buck up and Patrick feels the press of his hard cock against his ass. 

“Want your mouth on me,” David moans, and all the blood in Patrick’s body surges straight to his dick at how broken and wild David’s voice is, and he hasn’t even touched him yet. “Want you to suck my cock, feel your mouth on my balls, honey. Please.”

Patrick grunts his acquiescence and sits up, earning a groan from his husband. David looks up at him with eyes hooded and dark with lust and it’s all Patrick can do not to just grind against him until they both come in their pants like a pair of horny teenagers. Instead, he reaches for the fly of David’s jeans, unfastening the button and carefully sliding the zipper down over his cock. He gets to his feet, grabbing David’s jeans and tugging them roughly down his legs, earning a surprised gasp from his husband. His briefs are tented obscenely as his hard length strains against the fabric and Patrick licks his lips, drawing a whine from David, who rolls his hips alluringly and it’s Patrick’s turn to whine. He wants that cock, wants to taste it. Wants to choke on it. Wants to swallow down everything that David has to give him. He tugs David’s briefs down his legs, tossing them over his shoulder. It’s a testament to how far gone his husband is right now that he’s made no comment on Patrick’s treatment of his clothes. Under normal circumstances, he would never allow Patrick to be so cavalier with them. But his eyes are closed and he’s practically writhing on the bed now, almost wild with lust.

Patrick shucks off his own jeans and underwear, kicking them aside and tugging his shirt over his head before he sinks to his knees beside the bed, his hands on David’s thighs. David lifts his hips, his cock bobbing tantalizingly and without preamble, Patrick wraps his hand around the base and swallows him down until his lips meet his fist. David calls out his name, his back arching, pressing his cock up into Patrick’s fist, into his mouth. Patrick pulls off with a pop.

“Shhh. Baby, you gotta be quiet,” he whispers. David raises his head and looks down at him, nodding furiously.

“Yeah. Yes. Okay,” he says, sounding a little frantic. Patrick smiles and presses a kiss to the head of his dick before he swallows him down again. David shouts his name again and Patrick rolls his eyes. He doesn't pull off this time. Honestly, he can’t realistically expect David to be quiet given how long it’s been since Patrick has touched him. He just hopes his mom is suitably distracted downstairs and that his dad doesn’t have any reason to come upstairs when he gets home from work.

David’s fingers find their way into Patrick’s hair, tugging hard as Patrick sucks him off, pumping the base of his cock with his fist. 

“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmy _god,”_ David chants. His fingers are curled tight in Patrick’s hair and the pain in his scalp with each tug causes his cock to swell and drip, his balls tighten. He might actually come completely untouched, just from the sounds David is making, the feel of his hands in his hair. “Fuck, honey. Yes!” David moans when Patrick closes his lips over the head of his cock and sucks hard, teasing his slit with his tongue and letting his free hand fall to David’s balls, pulling gently and squeezing them, the way he knows drives David wild. “So good, Patrick. So...oh God. So fucking good.”

Patrick pops off David’s cock with a filthy slurp, a thin line of saliva connecting his mouth to the head of David’s dick. His hand is soaked with drool and David’s own wetness and he pumps him for a moment, watching the way his hand glides up and down the shaft. “Fuck, baby. Look at you, so hard for me,” Patrick murmurs. David responds with a breathy whine and writhes under Patrick’s attentive gaze. Lowering his head, Patrick presses a kiss to David’s balls—first one, then the other—before sucking them both into his mouth.

“Fucking fuck!” David groans, humping up into Patrick’s fist on his cock, then back down to his mouth on his balls. “Fucking...fuck. Fuck! Jesus!”

Patrick hums around David’s balls, then lets them fall from his mouth with a wet slap against his perineum. He removes his hand from David’s cock, earning an annoyed huff from his husband. He grins back at David in response and taps his knee. “On your front, David.”

David whines pitifully, his angry red cock so hard and Patrick knows he’s so close. But he wants to get his mouth on David’s ass, wants him to hump himself against the mattress while he eats him out. Wants David to come with his tongue in his ass.

He’s never seen his husband move so fast in the entire time he’s known him, scootching up the bed and ripping his sweater off and throwing it to the floor before rolling over onto his front in record time. He arches his back and wiggles his gorgeous ass in the air, his hands coming to pull his cheeks apart, exposing his hole for Patrick, showing him his prize. 

“Yeah, baby,” Patrick says as he crawls up the bed behind David, lowering himself onto his belly and gently thumbing at David’s hole. His cock aches at the gasp he elicits from David with that simple touch, the way his hole flutters in anticipation. “You can’t wait, can you David? Can’t wait for me to fuck you with my tongue?”

“I can’t. I _can’t!”_

“You fucking love it, don’t you?”

“I do. I fucking do, Patrick. Love your tongue. Love it when you lick up inside me.”

Swatting David’s hands away, he grabs onto David’s cheeks, pulling them apart and leaning forward to kiss at that little pink ring of muscle. He darts his tongue out and flicks tiny, fluttering licks all around it. David presses his face into the mattress and lets out a growl of pleasure, pushing his ass back against Patrick’s mouth in a not-so-subtle request for more. Patrick happily obliges, spearing his tongue into David’s hole.

“Fuck. Yes! Fuck!” David groans, his voice muffled by the mattress. “Ohmygod, Patrick. Yes! More!”

Patrick grips David’s cheeks tighter, pulling them further apart, then he licks a long, slow strip up his ass then delves back in with his tongue, fucking into David’s hole. He’s drooling and moaning into David’s ass, and it’s wet and messy and perfect. David’s rutting against the mattress, and Patrick does the same. His neglected cock in desperate need of the friction.

They’re moving together now, rutting and fucking and writhing on the bed. David is moaning so loudly that there’s no way his mom hasn’t heard them downstairs. But Patrick doesn’t care. He doesn’t care at all, because he’s giving his husband what he needs, what he’s needed for so long. And it’s so fucking good and it feels so right, just like it always does with David.

He’s so close now. Patrick can feel his orgasm coming for him like a runaway freight train. His hips move frantically against the bedspread. They’ll have to wash it. They’ll have to wash all the bedding with the mess they’ve made. But the embarrassment of going downstairs with a hamper full of filthy, come-stained bedding is a problem for future Patrick. Present Patrick points his tongue hard and deep inside his husband and slides a finger in alongside, curling it to feel for the spot inside David that he knows will be his undoing. 

As his finger presses teasing little circles on his prostate, David howls. His whole body tenses and shakes and then his hole quivers and squeezes around Patrick’s tongue and finger and Patrick knows he’s coming. Letting go of David’s ass, he slides his hand beneath himself, wrapping his fingers around his cock and fucking into his fist. It only takes three quick pumps of his hips before stars burst behind his eyes and he moans loudly against David’s ass as he empties himself into his hand.

They lie there in a panting and sweaty heap. Patrick’s whole body tingles and he feels like he’s floating. David lets out a satisfied little hum and reaches back, his hand blindly searching for some part of Patrick to touch, to connect with. Patrick pulls his finger out of David’s still-fluttering hole and wipes it on the bedspread. Then he takes David’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers and squeezing.

“That was amazing, David,” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss to David’s inner thigh. 

David huffs out a laugh. “You’re telling me,” he murmurs, and Patrick can hear the laughter in his voice. “Fuck, Patrick. Honey, that was—” He sighs happily and squeezes Patrick’s hand. “Thank you.”

Pushing himself up to his knees, Patrick crawls out from between David’s legs and flops down beside him. David scoots over so he’s curled up along his side, his head pillowed on Patrick’s chest. Patrick wraps his arm around David’s shoulders and pulls him in closer. He turns his head and presses a kiss to his forehead. He gets a glimpse of the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. The big red digital letters tell him that their forty minutes are almost up.

“We should get cleaned up. It’s almost dinner time.”

David groans and buries his face in Patrick’s chest. “Oh my God,” he moans. “Your mother!” He raises his head and looks up at Patrick with his brows furrowed, his eyes wide. “I was not quiet, Patrick. Sh-she...what if she heard me?”

Patrick chuckles and nuzzles his nose against David’s temple. “Baby, I’m pretty sure the neighbours heard you. My mother is the least of your worries.”

David lets out a despondent whine and drops his face back against Patrick’s chest. “When we get home, I’m sending Marcy the biggest gift basket.”

* * *

Marcy startles at the hand on her shoulder. She looks up to see Clint smiling down at her and she pulls out her noise-cancelling headphones and presses pause on her podcast, smiling up at him. He leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

“Hi. How was your day?” she asks, setting her headphones back into their case and putting her knitting aside.

Clint sits down at the table and tells her about work, the crazy traffic on the drive home. When he’s done he looks around the kitchen. “Where are the boys?”

Marcy feels her cheeks flush with colour. “Oh. They’re upstairs.”

Clint frowns. “And they left you down here to make dinner all on your own?”

Marcy places a quelling hand on his knee. “It’s fine,” she says. “I think they needed a little time alone. They had a bit of a tiff this afternoon. I thought it was better for them to...clear the air.”

Nodding his head, Clint smiles at her. “Well. Let’s hope they sorted out their issue.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they did,” Marcy says. She knows they did. Her headphones may be noise-cancelling, but they don’t block out everything, no matter how high she turned the volume. She’d definitely heard David agreeing very vociferously with Patrick over the voices on her podcast. “I think they’ll be fine.”

Her ears perk up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Patrick appears in the doorway, his arms full of the comforter from his bed. He shoots her a bashful grin before he disappears into the laundry room. David peers nervously around the corner. As soon as he sees Marcy and Clint, his whole face flushes and he drops his gaze to the floor.

“Hi sweetheart,” Marcy says.

“Hi,” David replies, and Marcy tries not to think about why his voice sounds so hoarse. “Um...c-can I set the table? O-or do you need help with…” He trails off, his hands fluttering aimlessly in front of him, as if they’re not quite sure how to behave in this social situation.

“You can absolutely set the table, David,” she says. “Patrick will show you where everything is.”

“Okay.”

Patrick emerges from the laundry room and directs David to the cutlery drawer while he grabs plates and glasses from the cupboard. David shoots Marcy a bashful little glance as he skitters out of the kitchen behind his husband.

“David okay?” Clint asks, brows furrowed at their son-in-law’s uncharacteristic display of shyness.

Marcy grins to herself as she opens the oven to pull out the pot roast. “Oh, I think he’s just fine,” she says. “Better than fine, actually,” she giggles to herself as she sets the roast on the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who demanded a second chapter. Also to schittyfic for agreeing to a porn-for-porn exchange. Ball is in your court now my friend!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I welcome comments!
> 
> I hope it doesn’t come across as Marcy overstepping her boundaries. It kind of diverts a bit from the prompt, so I hope you don’t mind too much schittyfic! 
> 
> When you’re done reading, come say hi on Tumblr @delilah-mcmuffin or on Twitter @DelilahMcMuffin
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> D McM


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